To See You Standing There
by EucalyptusKisses
Summary: Dean lives in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It's a small town, and self-contained. Dean's always dreamed of leaving it one day, maybe moving to Chicago or NY. That's before he stops in at Heavenly Fire, a coffee shop co-owned by one Castiel and his brother. Dean and Cas meet, only to lose everything after falling in love.
1. Chapter 1

Dean doesn't tell anyone, but he's got a small passion for creative writing. Not Ellen, definitly not Jo (Jesus, she'd never let up on it), not Sam, Bobby, Garth, or Ash. But, it's there. A little spark for writing.

Well. It's not exactly creative writing. If it were just that, he would own up to it (eventually). He writes fanfiction for his all-time favorite show: Dr. Sexy, M.D. Charlie knows he writes the stuff; she's into the same sort of nerdy things. Dean swore her into secrecy the day she finally managed to wrangle it out of him - he was slightly tipsy and they were playing Truth or Dare (don't ask why, he doesn't know), and he picked dare. Needless to say, Charlie wanted to know an embarrassing detail about him.

And what the hell was he supposed to tell her? That even though she's his little sister - and gay - in every way but blood, he still gets the occasional boner for her?

No way.

So now Charlie knows, and she sometimes dangles it right in front of Dean when they're both with other people, like she's going to tell his little secret if he doesn't do what she wants.

It's annoying as hell, but hey, Dean can't say a damn thing because god knows he'd do the same thing.

* * *

><p>Dean has the most amazing beta ever to grace this earth. His name is Carver Edlund, and apparently he's a published author (but Dean's Googled him and he's never found a single book written by one Carver Edlund).<p>

Sometimes Dean's wondered if Carver is just using a fake name, because he thinks Dean's name is Angus Young (ok, sue him; he loves AC/DC).

Carver's funny - Jesus, he's funny - but he's also awkward and socially inept. If it were anyone else, Dean would be gaping in shock and irritation that someone could be that stupid socially, but with Carver, it's different. He's quirky. And he learns fast, with Dean's advice. Carver's honest to a fault, but not in a mean way; more in a matter of fact way. He's just - he's different, and sometimes Dean thinks he's starting to become far gone on someone he's never met in real life.

He sends Carver his Dr. Sexy, M.D. chapters every week - he's writing a multi-chaptered fanfiction called Doctor in the House about the show, and damn, it's harder than he thought it would be. Dean's only ever written one-shots (albeit long ones, and they're mostly just porn, maybe with a bit of a plot - usually never - but whatever).

They talk every night through instant messaging at eight-thirty. Sometimes it goes on for hours, sometimes just twenty minutes. Tonight is one of those nights when Dean knows he'll be tired as hell tomorrow. But Carver's worth it.

**67_Chevy_Impala: hey, didnt expect u'd be on 2night**

_**AngelicThursday: Of course I am. I've been dying to talk to you all day.**_

**See, it's shit like that that makes Dean's heart contract and squeeze with affection, his stomach flutter with manly butterflies.**

**67_Chevy_Impala: ditto :) i take it ur day didnt go well?**

_**AngelicThursday: No. My brother Gabriel had a crisis at work - he runs a coffee shop called Heavenly Fire. Honestly, sometimes I wish he ran a restaurant so I could bring in in Chef Ramsay - you know, that one with the cooking show who yells a lot.**_

_**Angelic Thursday: Anyway, Gabriel got a surprise visit from one of my other older siblings, Balthazar. They got into a huge argument about . . . something, I'm not exactly sure what, since I heard through the grapevine (otherwise known as my twin sister Anna). But now they're not on speaking terms - Gabe and Balthazar - and Gabe's run out of pies. Apparently there was a lot of food throwing in said argument.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: damn. i bet jerry springer would have a fun time dissecting ur family.**

**67_Chevy_Impala: wait, ur brother runs Heavenly Fire? i love that coffee shop; i swear it's the most amazing place ever. its kind of a drive from where i live, but its so worth it. ur talkin about the one in downtown Sioux Falls, right?**

_**AngelicThursday: Yes; that's the one. I didn't know you knew about it.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: my younger brother sammy - i think ive told you about him - he goes there at least once a week, and he told me about how much id like it, so i tried it on my day off from work like 2 months ago, and now i go every day.**

_**AngelicThursday: You go there every day just for the coffee? I thought you didn't like the drink.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: honestly, i don't like coffee, but i like the kind served there. at first i went to try the coffee. now i just go because the barista there is smoking.**

_**AngelicThursday: Smoking? It's not allowed at the shop. I'd know - Gabe's kicked people out for even pulling out a cigarette.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: haha. no carver, i meant that the barista is the most fucking attractive person i have ever seen. he's got these like, dark royal blue eyes and a really rough/low/gravelly voice. and sex hair - HE ALWAYS HAS SEX HAIR. i swear, sometimes im pretty sure if he just straight up talked for like five minutes, id come in my pants.**

Carver knows that Dean is bisexual. It's not normally a fact that Dean would just share with someone on the internet, but Carver's gay - "really gay, so gay I combusted my own gaydar when I realized my sexuality", according to Carver. That statement made Dean laugh for hours.

So now he tells Carver about people he finds attractive, people he wants to fuck - because goddammit, Dean is not the kind of guy who wants an actual relationship. He's still not over his deadbeat, alcoholic father (emphasis on dead) and he's fucking thirty five. Dean is terrified that if he gets into a relationship, he'll be burned just as badly as John burned him. So he fucks with strangers and gets his emotional fill from his family, and, yeah, he's lonely, but whatever - he can get by like that.

_**AngelicThursday: You think the barista's cute?**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: yeah. im not sure what his name is since he doesn't wear a name tag - and idk why he doesn't, since he works there, but based on the way one of the other female workers talks to him, i think theyre both dating.**

**67_Chevy_Impala: that totally kills me, but whatever. ive been flirting with the barista for ages, but he's never responded to any of it, so i guess i shouldve realized he wasnt interested.**

_**AngelicThursday: It's his loss, Angus. You'd be an amazing partner. You're funny and loyal. And you are unbelievably sweet underneath your rough exterior.**_

And this is the kind of shit Dean expects from chicks, not from Carver. The Carver he's known has never shown any sort of affection for Dean until now, and damn if Dean isn't hearing a chorus of angels singing hallelujah as he reads Carver's response.

Yeah, he's definitely far gone on a person he's met online.

**67_Chevy_Impala: ur too kind, C.**

_**AngelicThursday: It's the truth. Tell me about your day; do that thing only you seem to be able to do where I end up smiling.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: it was ok. my friend charlie came around to have a sherlock marathon, and we ended up playing a drinking game. We had to take two shots every time a dead body appeared, sherlock explained his deductions, someone insults someone else, sherlock ignores molly/is extraordinarily rude/admits he's wrong, and every time a black cab appears onscreen.**

**67_Chevy_Impala: i have the most awful hangover - i had to use a sick day for work, which is how bad i feel. we took a lot of stupid pictures of ourselves, which i dont remember doing. like in one, im dressed in nothing but cowboy boots and charlie's hot pink frou frou feather scarf.**

It goes on like that, them talking. Carver rants about his brothers and Dean/Angus makes sex jokes (Carver claims his blush is redder than a tomato after reading his jokes). It's the way things are supposed to be, and just like every time they talk, Dean ignores the fact that the way he feels about Carver grows. Evolves. Changes.

* * *

><p>"Can I have a caffe macchiato?" Dean asks the blue-eyed barista the next day. It's been two days since Charlie and he had their Sherlock themed drinking night, and damn if he's still not feeling totally right. He's half sure he almost got alcohol poisoning. Carver told him about a remedy for hangovers he used to give to some of his brothers - Dean tried it, and he feels gloriously better (though still faintly sick).<p>

"Mm," is all the other male has to say.

Then: "You don't look well," the barista says. Dean is damn surprised his blue-eyed angel said anything; and hell, he even said something about Dean, commented on his appearance.

It takes him a minute to realize he has to actually say something back, because that's what you do when someone tries to make small conversation. "Um, yeah. Didn't get much sleep last night." (Because he and Carver were up till two talking about everything and nothing, then the latter critiqued Dean's newest chapter in his fanfic) "And I'm battling a hangover," Dean replies, trying for a nonchalant air as he pretends to look at the baked goods Heavenly Fire offers.

"Really?" the barista asks, pausing in the middle of making Dean's order. He seems to really see Dean for the first time as he studies Dean with worn blue eyes that seem to hold a new sparkle in them.

It's then that Dean notes that the barista has circles under his eyes, like he's a bit sleep-deprived. Well, that makes two of us, Dean thinks as he goes, "Yeah. Long story short, don't drink your way through three bottles of Ouzo. Shit gets you drunk fast."

"I see," the blue-eyed man says. With a hint of a smile, he adds, "I'll keep that in mind."

He finishes up Dean's order, and hands him his drink. "Thanks," Dean says, winking and throwing the barista his trademark smile. "By the way, your clothes would look great on the floor next to my bed."

It's honestly the most bold thing Dean's ever said to the barista, and he has the pleasure of seeing the blue-eyed man flush. Then he looks down and Dean is kicking himself mentally for being so forward, because Jesus fuck, those are the kinds of thoughts he has to filter. Dean starts to leave, because honestly, this is getting awkward. "Sorry, that was a bit much," he tells the barista, hoping that will cover things.

"Wait!" the barista says. "Can I see your receipt really quickly?"

It's an odd question, and completely unrelated to what Dean had just said. But of course he goes, "Um - sure. Here." and hands the thing to the barista. He watches as the man scribbles something on it, then hands it back to Dean with a smile.

Dean doesn't look at the receipt until he's in his Impala. And when he does, he sees what the barista wrote:

_I don't have sex with people until I've been on at least eight dates with them, since eight is also the infinity sign turned sideways, and quite frankly I would want to be with someone for infinity, provided we're compatible and I care for them (and since I've never been on eight dates with one person). Up for the challenge? _

_-Castiel xx_

There's a phone number written under Cas's name, and Dean assumes it's his cell number.

Dean laughs; it's so . . . awkwardly worded doesn't even do it justice. It's awkward and forward and Dean loves it. Then he realizes: he finally knows what the name is of his crush.

It's _awesome_.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: I worked harder on this chapter, though it might not seem like it. I just really want this to be a mostly upbeat, happy story. I know that as a result, the plot might not be very intricate, but whatever. Also, Castiel is going to be autistic in this story, because I have a headcannon that if he were human, he'd be on the spectrum just because of his behavior with humans/how socially inept he is at times. That, and I have Aspergers, which is on the autism spectrum. I've always wanted to write about someone who had autism or Aspergers and acted/thought like me.)**

* * *

><p><strong>67_Chevy_Impala: CARVER!<strong>

_**AngelicThursday: What is it, Angus? I can't tell if you're scared or excited.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: I FOUND OUT THE NAME OF THE BARISTA I LIKE!**

_**AngelicThursday: So you're excited, I take it.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: duh! ive only been waiting for forever.**

_**AngelicThursday: Would you care to tell me what happened?**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: i ordered coffee and then he wrote his number down on my receipt.**

It takes Carver a while to reply, which is odd. Dean is about to go do something else, because seriously, it's been seven minutes; how much could Carver have to say about one sentence?

**AngelicThursday: I'm happy you got his number. Did the note say anything else?**

There's a snap of irritation that ricochets through his body, and it takes Dean by surprise. On the one hand, that's all Carver had to say? Son of a bitch. On the other hand, maybe he was busy doing something else. It's not as if Carver's life revolves around Dean.

**67_Chevy_Impala: no, not really. oh, and get this: he's named after a fucking angel, dude. but the angel he was named after was called 'cassiel' and he was an angel of thursday. it reminded me of ur username.**

_**AngelicThursday: You knew he was named after an angel? Not many people know that.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: my mom used to recite angel names to sammy when she tucked him in at night, instead of singing a lullaby. she was always saying how angels were looking over him and whatnot. i fell asleep listening to the same crap since we shared a room and i guess i still haven't forgotten it.**

_**AngelicThursday: It's not crap, Angus. It's sweet your mom would reassure your brother like that. And personally, I'm impressed you still remember. At least your barista will like that you know that.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: how do u know he'll be impressed?**

_**AngelicThursday: My brother owns and manages Heavenly Fire, remember? He only has three workers who have been working there since the coffee shop opened. I spend a lot of time there, especially when I need to collect my thoughts before writing. I've gotten to know the workers very well.**_

_**AngelicThursday: In any case, he went to Oxford and graduated in the top ten percent of his class. And most of those people didn't know about the origins of his name; it was just a strange name for a strange adult.**_

**67_Chevy_Impala: shit, carver. shit balls. uve got 2 be joking.**

**AngelicThursday: What's the matter?**

**67_Chevy_Impala: u know i never went to college - hell, i barely made it through high school; i was 2 busy looking after sammy and working three jobs just to put him through school and help get him college tuition. how the hell am i supposed to impress someone who went to fucking Oxford?! i am literally so inadequate.**

_**AngelicThursday: You're not inadequate, Angus. Look, just be your charming, cheeky self. And relax, ok? I know you're not at his academic level, but it doesn't say anything about who you are as a person. You're a successful mechanic who owns his own business. You're a fantastic brother, loyal, funny, sarcastic, and confident. I'm sure you'll get your barista to fall for you for all of those reasons. It won't matter you didn't go to college; once he gets why it won't matter. I promise.**_

Dean's stomach is twisted in knots while he bathes in self-doubt, but uneasily he decides to accept Carver's words. What does he have to lose? Carver wouldn't lie to spare Dean's feelings; he's never done that before.

But. Well. It still makes Dean wonder if he's good enough, because what the hell was he thinking, flirting with someone so out of his league?

* * *

><p>Castiel talks with Angus for a couple hours, before they say their goodbyes. Angus, apparently, has to go get the shop where he works ready for tomorrow's customers, and Cas has to finish cleaning Heavenly Fire.<p>

For the first time, he's doubting the guy that he's been talking to for ages. What are the coincidences that he gives his number to Dean, the attractive man with the auroral pine green eyes, and then Angus chatters about getting Castiel's number the same day?

What if they're the same person? Some of their one-liners have definitely sounded similar. Wouldn't he know if they were the same person?

Of course, Castiel can't be sure. He's given his number to a few people he's found attractive (none have made an impression on him the way Dean has, if he isn't counting Ezekiel). And anyway, it's not like he's been entirely honest about himself, either. He told Angus his name was Carver Edlund (the name was picked on a whim) and that he writes books (which he actually does, just under the name James Milton).

Cas frowns, brow furrowed in thought as he drifts downstairs to begin shutting everything down and wiping off tables. Ruby, Meg, and Bela had already left, and Gabriel was out shopping for cooking ingredients.

Castiel knows Angus works a lot, and has a large social life. Angus might not have mentioned getting Cas's number until now because he doesn't have a ton of downtime. That, or he just wants to talk about other things.

Angus doesn't talk about his crush on Castiel a lot (because really, it has to be Castiel Angus likes; he's the barista at Heavenly Fire); apparently feelings are what Angus considers to be reserved for "chick flicks. Well, just chicks in general". He keeps a lot of what he feels repressed, but in rare moments of deep, legitimate conversation, Angus can be heart-wrenchingly vulnerable. So much so that Cas feels his own heart ache to take away his friend's pain.

It's not that he hasn't tried; but really, Angus just needs someone to listen to him. And that's what Cas does. It makes him wish he could do more, even though Angus says that he can only talk to Cas about his feelings and issues because he's the only who seems to understands not to say anything at all, just lets him talk and blow off steam.

Of course, there are times like when Angus says the barista is "smoking hot", and then elaborates on it, that make Cas flush and his stomach flutter, a pleased smile breaking out onto his face. Out of all his siblings, people usually find Michael, Lucifer, Balthazar, Uriel, and Anna to be (extremely) attractive, sexy people. It's never Cas that catches anybody's eye, never the chronically awkward and stoically silent barista that makes people do a double-take.

He just - he really wants it to be Dean, but knows it's unlikely. Balthazar runs a successful and top-notch law firm, and Balthazar claims that Sam Winchester is the "best of the best, most elite of the elite lawyers I've come across so far". Cas met Dean first when Sam dragged him in to the coffee shop, and Cas couldn't think as soon as he laid eyes on Dean.

Because Dean was the most gorgeous being ever to come across Castiel's path. Apparently he likes Castiel too - the latter just didn't realize it until Anna finally had to explain to Cas (after she caught him spending three hours moping in his apartment above the shop again) that Dean was flirting with Cas every time he ordered. Which Castiel probably wouldn't have entirely believed anyway, because someone like Dean, who's basically sex on legs (in Castiel's humble opinion) is way out of his league.

Castiel has autism, so the flirting had gone straight over his head. He didn't really understand social etiquette, so he didn't talk much, if at all, with people he didn't know and kept largely to himself. When he did talk, he was apparently brutally honest, according to his siblings - as a result, he was always scared of saying the wrong thing. He just hoped that if Dean asked him out, the older Winchester would be OK with Castiel's autism.

* * *

><p>Castiel is delighted that Dean comes back to the shop as soon it opens the next day. The older Winchester strolls up to the counter and looks at Castiel with a slow, lazy smile forming on his face. He leans forward and brushes a few strands of hair out of Cas's face, and later on the barista will swear he didn't lean into the touch a little bit (but we all know that's not quite true). He looks at Dean, opens and closes his mouth once because he wants to say something but he can't think of what, even though there are a million things running through his head. Dean's eyes twinkle, and he says, "Hey, Cas. Long time no see."<p>

"Actually, it's been approximately twenty hours since we last saw each other and I gave you my phone number," Castiel replies automatically. He blushes then, because out of all the things he could have said, that's what he had to go and say? He looks at Dean, just waiting for the inevitable eyebrow raise and that look that means he isn't weirded out.

But because Dean is wonderful (at least according to Castiel), the Winchester just laughs a genuine good-natured laugh, not in the fake, you're-so-weird laugh Castiel is used to hearing. And he tells Castiel, "I'm glad I wasn't the only one who counted the hours spent apart."

The barista rubs the back of his neck and gives Dean a small smile. "What do you want today?" he asks Dean, and he decides to ignore the shy, delighted note in his voice.

"Well . . ." Dean stretches out the word, and his eyes briefly scan over the menu. His eyes eventually meet Castiel's again, and there's a smirk playing around his full lips. "Ok. So, there's this alluring barista standing in front of me, and if he's so inclined, I'd like to ask him out on a date."

Castiel blinks, and flushes again, bites his lip as he looks down and breaks the eye contact. "Or not . . .?" Dean adds, and there's an uncertain note in his voice.

"No! No. I want to," Castiel tells him as he looks up. "I just - you're asking me - and - really? You really want to go out with me?" He's trying to control his smile, but it's really hard, because Dean just asked him out and holy hell. There's a chorus of angels singing hallelujahs somewhere. The most attractive guy, who could probably have anyone he wanted, and he wants to take Castiel out on a date.

Castiel doesn't realize he's accidentally voiced his thoughts out loud (because he's still processing this in elated shock) until Dean says, "I'm not so sure I could have anybody I wanted, but even if I could, it doesn't change the fact that I want to go out with you."

The barista blushes (Jesus, what the hell is it about Dean that makes him blush all the damn time?) and mumbles, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud."

He feels Dean's hand rest on his shoulder, and Castiel dares to look at Dean again. Dean's hand is reassuring, firm on his shoulder. "Don't ever change, Cas," Dean tells him with a grin. "Promise me that."

Castiel mutely nods, and Dean continues with, "So, I'll pick you up tonight at seven-thirty. Wear something casual, alright?"

He nods again, and then blurts out, "I never got your number. What is it?"

Dean smiles at him, and pulls something out of his pocket - Castiel realizes it's his receipt from yesterday's order, and on the back, Dean wrote:

_Yeah. I'm up for the challenge ;)_

with a phone number underneath.

Castiel looks up at Dean, and smiles at him with a twinkle in his eyes he doesn't know is there.

"I'll see you at seven thirty," Dean reminds him, and then he's out of the shop.

The barista doesn't stop smiling for the entire day, and none of his siblings can figure out why (it irritates Gabriel in particular to no end, since he is the one who is second closest to Cas and runs the shop with him).

* * *

><p>Dean figured he'd start (relatively) simple. Since he probably had to go above and beyond to get laid, he's decided to take Cas on a picnic. He packed strawberries, soft cheese and crackers, figs, a combination of salami, pepperoni and prosciutto, stuffed dates (rolled with almonds than with sugar), bits of artichokes on skewers, tiny sandwiches, cookies, carrot and celery sticks (with a peanut butter jar just in case) and a bottle of red wine into a picnic basket, along with napkins, utensils, plates, two cups and a blanket. He took his iPod and a portable, small speaker to play background music, just in case.<p>

He'd finally settled on wearing a black shirt (which was a bit tight, but whatever; at least it showed he worked out a shitload), jeans, and a leather jacket. He wasn't sure if his usual sort of outfit was acceptable for an actual date, but he had said to dress casual. So that would just have to do.

Dean bit his lip, wondering if he'd gone a bit overboard. He couldn't remember going on a date for at least ten years - the last he'd been with anyone in a relationship was Lisa, and that had ended up being one hell of a mistake.

He sighed, then muttered, "Well, it doesn't matter; I've gotta leave now to pick up Castiel." He tried to bring the basket and blanket out to his Impala carefully, but ended up rushing a bit, fearing he'd be late. Dean sucked in some deep breathes, trying to quell the nervousness rolling around in his stomach, the awful fear he'd fuck it up.

_C'mon, you're a _Winchester, he kept reminding himself._ You've got good conversationally skills and are attractive. It will be fine._

When he arrived at Heavenly Fire, it was clear that it was closing up - and that he was five minutes early. Dean debated whether or not he ought to stay in the car, eventually deciding on walking into the shop.

He didn't see Castiel anywhere, so he slid into a chair and took out his phone while he waited.

Moments later, he heard someone walking into the front-end of the shop from the back-end, and looked up in anticipation. It turned out to be Castiel, who looked completely fuck-able in trousers and a white dress shirt with a blue tie. He was wearing a light tan trench-coat, which honestly would have looked weird on anyone but him.

Dean stood up, hastily pocketing his phone. "Hey, you," he greeted Cas, eyes roaming the barista's body. The clothes clung to Castiel like a second skin, showing that he had more of a slimmer physique than Dean, though he did have muscles.

"Hi," Castiel replied, walking toward Dean like he was unsure.

Dean met him halfway, and soon his arm is curled around Castiel's shoulder, and the latter is looking up at him with parted lips and large, innocent eyes. Dean brushes the barest of kisses against Castiel's lips and smiles gently at him before Dean knows what the hell he's doing.

"I - sorry," Dean mumbled, this time the blushing away as he awkwardly stepped away and rubbed the back of his neck.

Castiel smiled and replied, "Next time, I hope it goes a bit . . . deeper," and there's a mischievous look on his otherwise innocent face, like he knew exactly how Dean would interpret the comment and therefore said it purposefully.

Dean just smirked a bit and bumped Cas's shoulder. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said cheerfully, and if there was a bounce in his step as they walked out, he dutifully ignored it.

* * *

><p>Castiel's head is on Dean's stomach, and his eyes were closed in bliss. One of Dean's hands is massaging slow circles in his hair, on his head - and Jesus it's the most relaxing thing ever. Dean's other hand is sprawled along Castiel's chest, just lying there holding one of Cas's hands.<p>

They're both sprawled across the blanket, full from the food Dean brought, and the music from Dean's iPod is low, something sweet and soft playing from the speaker. They're bathed in a golden sunset. Castiel is sure it can't get better than this. They talked about their lives, what they're doing - and holy shit was it something when they found out they'd met already online.

Dean had been embarrassed about it, to say the least, like he was ashamed of doing something that wasn't considered masculine. But Castiel was delighted about it, and had blurted out he'd wondered last night if Angus was Dean, had hoped against hope it was.

Dean had blushed and smiled and played with Castiel's hair, and soon they were like this, quiet and enjoying each other's company.

Castiel had learned that Dean loved classic rock, that he liked the colors black or blue, that he had moved around a lot as a child with his younger brother Sam (Dean had skirted around why they had, and Castiel hadn't pressed him). He learned that Dean had worked no less than twelve jobs, one of them a bartending job, to help put Sam through school. He was proud that Sam had gotten in to Stanford on a full ride. He learned about how their Uncle Bobby had taught Dean about cars, and that was how he'd become a mechanic, eventually taking over Winchester & Singer Auto Shop when Bobby had retired when Dean had turned 25 and was sick of bartending.

He adores Dean already, likes how respectful and gentle he is. He didn't push Cas to be physical at all; rather, Castiel just nestled up next to Dean when he decided he wanted physical affection.

"Cas," Dean murmurs, voice low from what sounded like sleepiness. Combined with how he was still massaging circles in the barista's hair, Castiel is embarrassed he'd become half hard.

"Yeah?" Castiel asks softly.

"I think we should start heading back; it's almost nine." Dean suggests it with clear reluctance that Castiel picked up on, reluctance that he shared. He doesn't want the evening to end; he had a hard time shutting up around Dean, once he realized the mechanic genuinely wanted to know about his interests and hobbies. Dean is funny and sexy and intelligent, despite the constant doubt Castiel knew he felt.

"If you say so," Castiel replies slowly as he gets up.

He helps Dean pack away everything into the basket, then folds the blanket and tries to ignore the electricity he feels every time their hands brush.

The drive back is mostly quiet, with one of them sometimes punctuating the silence with a comment and the other one with a reply. However, it doesn't feel awkward; it's a comfortable silence that Castiel feels he could wrap around him like a blanket.

When they get back to the shop, Dean walks Castiel up to his apartment, even though Castiel's place was on the second floor. None of the people Castiel had gone on dates with in the past had done that, and he found it oddly . . . warming or comforting (he couldn't decide which) that Dean would go the extra mile just make him feel like the night was completed.

When they get to the door, Dean fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a second, then looks at Castiel and queries tentatively, "Could I maybe kiss you goodnight, Cas?"

Castiel nods, smiling at the nickname Dean had given him. "Yeah. I don't mind," he tells Dean.

The mechanic wraps an arm around his waist, pulls him close. He tilts Castiel's head up, then his hand is just resting on Castiel's face as their eyes close and lips meet.

Dean's lips are soft, and fuller than they appear. It's a bit clumsy at first, but after they break apart for air and try it a second time, things are smoother.

Castiel finds that somehow, one hand is griping the crook of Dean's neck, the other is somehow tangled in his short hair, and Dean's hands are gently skimming up and down his upper torso, creating a tingling feeling Castiel can feel everywhere. He lets out a low moan when Dean runs his tongue along Castiel's lower lip, asking for entrance, and his hands trail up Castiel's chest at the same time, and he can feel his knees faintly wobbling, because kissing is actually really fucking good when there's someone who knows what they're doing. Soon they're exchanging saliva more easily, and Castiel knows that Dean's mouth tastes like mint and vanilla.

They eventually break apart, panting, and Castiel looks up at Dean before the mechanic pulls him into a tight, warm embrace and presses a kiss to his temple. "Goodnight, Cas," he says, and he drifts back down after Castiel returned it.

Cas spends the next ten minutes tracing his more swollen lips with a finger, wondering how he can get Dean to kiss him that like again, without involving sex.

**(A/N: I'm sorry I didn't write more about their date; this was nine pages by the time I got done writing it. I'm exhausted and I just could not bring myself to write more about their date. Also I'm sorry if the kiss wasn't that good . . . hooray for being asexual and not knowing how to write any sort of sexual scene. I was thinking about writing a companion piece/story to this fic about missing scenes and including a full and better version of their dates. Please tell me if you'd be interested in reading something like that . . . I won't write it if nobody's interested.)**


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel woke up with a half-smile and a warm feeling trickling through his body. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the hot grittiness that came from only sleeping for a few hours. He looked up at his ceiling and stared blithely at it, casting his mind back over his date with Dean from last night. He still couldn't believe that he'd gone on a date with Dean Winchester. And that he hadn't screwed it up, the way he had with previous people. Well, the way he had with Meg Masters and Claire Novak.

Although, he wasn't sure either of those women counted. With Meg, he hadn't realized she'd been asking him out - she had basically said, "Castiel, you're going to go to a movie and dinner with me". Given that she was new at Heavenly Fire when she had said that to Cas - although it seemed like more of a demand - he had just figured that she wanted to spend time making a new friend. He had only realized the entire evening had been a date to Meg when she'd asked him if he was going to kiss her goodnight. After a confused expression and a belatedly perplexed "What?" from Castiel, she had rolled her eyes and gone inside with little more than a goodnight.

Claire was a childhood friend and had asked him to pretend to be her date at her father's remarriage, since she couldn't go with her boyfriend, Adam Winchester - Claire had been explicitly forbidden to see him since her father found out Adam was a firm agnostic. The Novak family rivaled Castiel's family's Christian faith. Different religious views were considered unacceptable in such religious households. Afterwards, Castiel had had to pretend to take Claire out to a restaurant - in all actuality, they'd just gotten wasted in an unused parking lot in front of a dingy gas station. They made out, much to Cas's discomfort when he woke up the next morning with a hangover.

That had been five years ago. He and Claire had mostly lost touch, except for the occasional email.

Castiel sat up, casting a hand through his hair, and looked at his bedside clock, which was blinking 7:33 in red. Meg was technically the barista at Heavenly Fire, but Castiel had more or less forced her to become a waitress after Dean had come into the coffee shop. He'd wanted to have some sort of contact with Dean - anything was better than nothing - and once Meg had figured out that that was why he'd made her take the job switch, he had suffered relentless teasing.

She was supposed to be working the whole day today, hence why Castiel had decided to go on that (wonderful, amazing, beautiful) date last night - he'd figured he could sleep in, then help Gabriel and Bela in the kitchen and work on the next novel in his popular book series called Supernatural. But, of course, things hadn't quite worked out that way.

True to his flighty, impulsive nature, Gabriel had decided to go out of town for a few days, leaving a long note about it on the kitchen counter of Castiel's apartment. His brother had evidently received a call from Michael, the eldest Milton child.

Which was weird, because Castiel and Gabriel had kind of been ousted from the rest of their family after their mother, Naomi, found out that Gabriel was bisexual and Castiel was gay. That had not been a fun night. The point was that aside from Anna's constant furtive emails and calls, and the in-person visits on their birthdays, Castiel and Gabriel rarely heard from their siblings. Balthazar would make a call a few times a year. Not because he was bi- or homophobic, but because he had fled to England a few months before Naomi's big discovery. Castiel couldn't blame the third eldest Milton sibling; his family had enough dysfunction to power a small town. That being said, Balthazar was frugal with the money he made, even though he honestly probably made enough money to rival the Queen of England.

Balthazar preferred to stay away, explaining to Castiel once that "if I came to visit you and Gabriel, I'd have to visit Naomi as well. She'd know in a few heartbeats if I came back to the U.S., and would no doubt force me into a family dinner. And those dinners, dear brother, are always a freshly prepared of assortment of neuroses and insults with a special dessert made from my own tears that I'd like to stay away from." *

Castiel sighed, knowing that Michael was probably only reaching out to Gabriel as a result of something that had happened with Naomi. He was nothing more than a puppet; a man on strings controlled by her. She would periodically have Michael or Raphael try and convince Castiel and Gabriel to set aside their "sinful ways" and accept that they were just confused individuals because they had strayed far away from religion.

He finally rolled out of bed, because despite trying to go back to sleep, he couldn't; not when his first thoughts had gone from Dean to thinking about his siblings. He wandered over to his dresser, picking out a dark navy shirt, black tie, and black skinny jeans he'd gotten from Gabriel for his birthday.

He ran a hand through his hair, already forgetting it as he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and put on some cologne in between relieving himself. Meg was taking advantage of Gabriel's absence to go on a date, and Castiel had more or less agreed to cover her for the afternoon while she went out. He all but bounced down the stairs, mind drifting back to last night. Dean was something else, Castiel couldn't help but think.

When he got down to the coffee shop, he ambled over to Meg, who was looking at the customers who'd already trickled in with something akin to a disgusted expression. She was also wiggling her hips to a song about a milkshake playing on the radio. He went over to join her at the register.

"Hello, Meg," Castiel told her cheerfully. Well, with less of his usual monotone. "Are you dancing?"

"Look at you," Meg crooned in a flat, sarcastic voice, not bothering to look at him. "All up and perky before eight am. This's gotta be some kinda record. And yes, I am. 'Milkshake' is my anthem."  
>Castiel frowned, listening to the lyrics. "I don't understand how a drink has a gravitational pull that is gender-specific and is able to bring said gender to a backyard." He looked at Meg with his eyebrows furrowed, waiting for an explanation.<p>

Meg rolled her eyes. "Just enjoy the song," she muttered as a customer walked in and headed over to place their order. Castiel realized that Meg would be no help, and decided to join Ruby and Bela in the kitchen.

Despite the fact that Heavenly Fire technically only sold coffee and little pastries, like slices of pie or muffins, it had expanded since opening to also include breakfast sandwiches and lunch options, like soups and salads and little burgers. Gabriel demanded that everything was freshly which often left a very stressed Bela and Ruby - they worked hard to make good food.

Gabriel came up with recipes, but it was up to that pair to make the food for the customers. Which was the other, and first reason, why Castiel had originally been forced to be the barista.

Back when Gabriel and Castiel were just starting their business, they hadn't had a system worked out and were scrambling to make money, to find a place to stay, to find extra help. First Bela had been hired, originally as a waitress. It turned out that while she was a shitty waitress, she was good at understand Gabriel's extremist shorthand recipes for new dishes.

So she was relocated to the kitchen and was Head Chef, even though it was just her. Then it started getting overwhelming, as Heavenly Fire quickly grew popular. Ruby was hired four months after opening day - right when Bela had a mental breakdown and Gabriel announced there was no way he could help her and do his job as the manager. And whatever else he did on the side. Ruby was the best candidate who applied for the second job opening, and she had a good eye for both interior design and balancing out Bela Talbot very well. And she was good at food preparation. Those two got along seamlessly in the kitchen, moving around each other like they'd been doing it for years.

Gabriel went through a string of baristas - some lasted a few days, others a week. One of them lasted two whole weeks. It was hard to please Gabriel, despite his seemingly go with the flow, happy go lucky personality (other people had told Castiel his brother was actually a pompous son of a bitch who pulled too many pranks, but they didn't know him the way Cas did).

Castiel was the one who found Meg almost eight months after the coffee shop business had taken off. She was brusque, but she also didn't take shit from anyone, and it was mainly because of her that the creeps who would hang out around and in Heavenly Fire took off and didn't come back (because dammit, Meg Masters was downright scary when she was angry).

Meg briefly relieved Castiel of being the barista (he had to help work at Heavenly Fire or it probably would've collapsed), and she took customer orders in addition to being the waitress.

It worked for a while until Meg said that she hated being the barista as she couldn't take orders and serve food (according to her, the shop was getting two popular for her to have two jobs and that equaled stress), so Castiel took back his old post and Meg became the coffee shop's full time waitress.

Castiel stepped into the kitchen, and a blonde-haired Ruby jumped over to pester him, an omelette laying forgotten on a plate. "How did it go?" she questioned immediately.

"Dean was . . . amazing," Castiel sighed, snatching the hummus and carrot stick out of her hands and popping the snack into his mouth. "We went on a picnic at this park a few minutes away. We just talked and it was very nice."

Before Ruby could respond, Bela started to throw carrot peels at them. "Are you two done having your chick flick moment?" she snapped, though there was a soft smile on her face while Castiel had been talking. "We have a shitload of food orders to make." "God, you're so bossy," Ruby grumbled, moving back over to her station. She picked up a fork, pointing it at Castiel. "You're going to tell me all about last night on my break," she informed him.

Castiel nodded and said, "Alright, Ruby, whatever you said."

Soon the women were in the company of Gabriel, who kept trying to steal food to eat instead of going out to buy a meal. Ruby and Bela kept swatting him with kitchen utensils to get him out of their kitchen and the food.

Castiel couldn't help the smile blooming on his face - his thoughts were going back to his old siblings, and the three women, plus Gabriel, just made him feel happy in comparison to how he'd felt growing up with his own family. It was like something Dean had said last night: family didn't end in blood.

* * *

><p>"So . . ." Charlie stretched out the word, like she was chewing gum and working up to the point where she'd blow a bubble and pop it. "How'd last night go?"<p>

"It was fine," Dean informed her. He was working on a car with a broken brake, an oil change that was needed, a request for audio installation, and steering issues. "We talked a lot and had a picnic."

Charlie peered under the car, and Dean could just feel her burning holes into his back while the silence stretched on. Finally: "That's all you're gonna say about it?" she all but whined at him.

He rolled his eyes. "What am I supposed to say about it?" he muttered. "It was a date, not a one night stand - oh god, holy shit, Charlie. I haven't told you about Castiel's eight date rule."

"His what rule?" Charlie asked between giggles. "Is this a really weird nerd, Dean? Did you find the guy version of me?"

Dean snorted. "He's not weird." He paused, then added, "Well, he's - he kind of is? Not exactly. Cas isn't a nerd."

"Thanks, Dean," she said. "That was so fucking helpful. I'm going to go bother Jo, and when you're done, I wanna hear all about it."

"You're so pushy," Dean informed her, chuckling. He turned his attention back go the car, listening to Charlie's footsteps fade as she walked out of the garage room he was in.

In truth, the date had been fun and successful. It was definitely a change from the random and constant hookups he usually had. The only hookups that had ever stood out to him were when he'd fucked some girl named Becky in a bathroom at a club, and a high school friend called Lisa.

Becky had been some four or five years ago, and they didn't know each other, which meant he definitely shouldn't remember much of it, especially since they'd both been hammered. But before they'd found themselves in the bathroom, Dean remembered that they'd been talking about Supernatural, a mega popular action-fantasy book series.

Dean didn't read much, hadn't really had much inclination to do so in his life. Sam had read the first book, Pilot, way back when he was a junior at Stanford. Sam preferred nonfiction books, and read Pilot at Jessica's request. Then he'd recommended the book to Dean.

Dean had scoffed at the time, thinking that it would be some ridiculously penned novel with a half-assed plot. It turned out to be fucking amazing. He had no idea how James Milton was able to write like, over almost 200 books in one series, because holy fucking hell, that was a shit ton. So Dean had gotten hooked on the story of Samuel and Damien Wesson, two hunters who were well-versed in tracking things that went bump in the night and causing trouble.

There were certain things about the book that made Dean marvel at how similar it was to his life - the Wesson's children mom, Mary, had been burned on the ceiling by a demon, which caused a fire in the house and left John to raise Samuel and Damien on the road (and doing a shitty job as a parent). Funnily enough, Samuel had gone to Stanford for pre-law, had a girlfriend named Jessie, who had died the same way as Mary before he joined Damien in monster fighting.

Dean had lost his mother, Mary, in a house fire. Which meant John Winchester had been out of it as far as parenting went, dragging his children all over the U.S. And Sam had gone to Stanford for pre-law as well. But unlike his book counterpart, Sam had graduated from Stanford with honors and a job at a law firm. He'd had a girlfriend named Jessica. Apparently they were supposed to be together forever - Sam had even fucking proposed to her - but they'd split when his job took up almost all his free time.

And. Well. It was similarities like that that made Dean do a double take half the time. Anyway, Becky had quoted one of the lines from the book when they were both at the same club - she'd been eating and had said, "These fries are amazing. They're like deep fried crack", which meant Dean had turned to her and gone, "You read them?" That turned into a drunken discussion about the books and culminated in a fuck session in a grimy bathroom stall. Becky claimed he looked like how she'd imagined Samuel, which did a number on Dean's ego - because seriously, why didn't she go find a Samuel lookalike if she wanted him so bad? But he'd also said she looked like Jo (and that girl was off limits, as stated by Bobby who saw Jo as a daughter, so Dean couldn't ever screw her) if he was drunk enough and squinted, so he couldn't talk.

That had been something, that night.

The only other hook-up he remembered was the one with Lisa, way back in college before she'd transferred. Well, Lisa was in college. Dean was just getting into the grove of hating bartending - he liked worked at Harvelle's Roadhouse, but goddamn, it was boring being around alcohol when you couldn't touch the stuff.  
>Lisa had been best friends with some chick named Lilith, who was crazy, in Dean's opinion. His friend - and half brother - Adam had gotten sick of Dean making googly eyes at her (which, by the way, had been going on for only a few days) whenever they were in the same vicinity as her. Adam set the two of them up on a date, which turned into a couple more dates before they ended up having sex at Lisa's dorm room. It was a whirlwind courtship that mostly revolved around lots of sex and not a lot of talking. When it seemed like Lisa was getting tired of it, he broke up with her, because what the hell - he was always always the dumper, not the person who gets dumped.<p>

So Dean and Lisa were officially over, and she went off to her thing somewhere across the country (he later learned that Lisa had a kid almost as soon as she was out of college, and it made him sick until he learned that the kid wasn't his - thank God, he wasn't ready to be a dad).

Dean sighed, turning his attention back to the car. It was going to be a long day, especially when he knew that Charlie was hovering in the main office chattering to Jo, who claimed that the younger blonde Harvelle was pretty fucking attractive. He only hoped that Charlie wouldn't use her as a rebound.

Charlie had a longstanding crush on one of the interns - her name was Gilda or something equally nerdy-sounding. Apparently she thought that Gilda didn't swing for "The Lesbian Team" (Charlie's words, not Dean's), which meant that Charlie did a lot more moping (read: unnecessary hacking to deal with her feelings) than normal.

An hour passed before Dean finally stopped working, admitting to himself right then that he couldn't pay attention to what he was doing. It was better to stop than to keep working and make a mistake. He got out from under the car and walked to the bathroom, where he tried to wash the grease and sweat off his face and hands. Dean always brought an extra set of clean clothes with him - it was inevitable that he'd get dirty, and want to change into something fresh when he was done for the day (Sam always said that was wasteful, since he was dirty and would have to take a shower when he got back to his dingy apartment).

He changed into a black AC/DC band shirt and jeans, with a black leather jacket to match, before putting on his socks and shoes and coming out of the bathroom. Dean was carrying a small bag with his dirty clothes in it, and soon found Charlie and Jo leaning against Pamela's desk in the front part of the shop. Jo was waving her hands a bit dramatically, and Charlie had a small smirk on her cool as a cucumber expression.

" . . . I mean, seriously, Charlie, how can you even say that?" Jo was demanding when Dean had gotten within earshot of them. "The original three movies are just part of a unified saga completed by the prequel movies."

That's all Dean needs to know that Charlie and Jo are locked in one of their legendary arguments about the Star Wars movies - whether the prequel movies sucked ass or not. Jo said nay, Charlie said yay, and the few times he'd been dragged into it, Dean made it clear he didn't give a shit.

Charlie's mouth about dropped open. "Those movies metaphorically raped my childhood. Jar-Jar was idiotic, there was too much CGI and cheesy dialogue and romance. And that's just the start. The original trilogy was superior in every way."

Before Jo could counter, Pamela, the secretary for the shop, snapped, "Girls, cut your shit out or take it somewhere else. I'm trying to work and you two are arguing like an old married couple."

Dean snickered, having gotten to the desk and quietly watching the usually drama unfold. "You're no better, Dean-o," Pamela muttered. "You and Sam are even worse."

It was the two girls' turn to laugh at Dean rolling his eyes in response. "Whatever, Pam," he muttered to her.

"So how'd your date go?" Charlie piped up, poking his shoulder. She fixed an expectant and eager look on him while Jo's head snapped up in unison with Pamela's.

Jo looked at Charlie, than Dean, with surprise. "Dean went on a date? Like an actual, proper date? With that dreamy barista?" She sounded incredulous.

"Well, I'll be damned," Pamela drawled, shoving a stick of minty gum into her mouth. "This is the last thing I would've expected: you growing the balls to ask out coffee shop guy."

"Shut up, all of you," Dean snapped good-naturedly. "Yes, it was an actual - wait, how the hell do you two - " he pointed a finger at Pamela and Jo " - know about Cas?"

Jo let out a crooning noise. "Aw, look, Charlie - one date and Dean's already moved on to pet names."

"Sorry, Dean," Charlie said, giving him an amused expression. "I kind of let it all out to them. And we haven't stopped talking about it since."

Jo walked over to one of the chairs in the room and plopped down in it, then shoved her hand into a bowl of Hershey Kisses and pulled out a handful. "I went into Heavenly Fire a few weeks ago, just to see if he was attractive - and damn, Dean. I think you picked pretty well this time, all things considered."

He huffed out a breath. "You're all embarrassing." In truth, it was uncomfortable for him to discuss his love life with anybody, and then with those three in particular, especially since he was choosing to date a male. The three of them were fine with his bisexuality - once he met Charlie, an out and proud lesbian, it had given him confidence to come out. But, still.

Dean knew how the rest of the world saw someone like him - because he was bisexual, he was confused. He was in a phase. He was greedy and couldn't choose which gender he wanted to be with, so he had to have both. There were tons of people who wouldn't date him because he was bisexual - whether because they felt like they had to compete against too many people for his attention (since Dean could be attracted to someone of either gender) or some other reason. It went on and on and on. It was ridiculous, Dean knew that intellectually. He shouldn't take it personally. But how could he not, when he was judged so fucking harshly for something he couldn't control? He was still always waiting for the moment when his (adopted) family would drop a judgmental comment without thinking. And Dean didn't know why.

"So tell us everything," Jo demanded, shoving some little chocolate pieces into her mouth.

Dean walked over to the couch and hopped onto it, stretching out. "We didn't do much - it was only like two hours at most. It was just a picnic during the evening last night down. I took him to a park and we talked."

"Did you actually - " Pamela began.

Dean already knew where this was going and interrupted her. "Yeah, I actually made the food for the picnic. Except for the wine."

Charlie nodded approval. "So what's his eight date rule?" she asked.

"Who has an eight date rule?" Bobby questioned, walking out of his office just then.

Jo and Pamela peered at the gruff, old man. Even though he was technically retired, Bobby still spent a lot of time at the auto shop, helping Dean to manage to the business. "Dean finally went on a date with that barista he's been pining over for months. I guess he's kinda high maintenance," Jo informed him.

"Does that mean you're gonna stop moping around while you work and these three will stop gossiping like hens about your love life?" Bobby more or less demanded, looking at Dean.

"I hope so," Dean muttered.

The conversation drifted from last night's date to a football game Bobby, Jo, and Ellen had watched last night, to Pamela's plans for tonight - eating ice cream and cuddling with her cat while having a Game of Thrones marathon, to Jo discussing with Bobby the merits of knowing how to both handle a gun and know about knife throwing with Charlie offering her input.

Dean spoke very little, his thoughts very much occupied with Castiel, and when they could see each other again.

**(A/N: In explanation of the whole 'Milkshake' song thing at the beginning, I saw a picture with Misha/Cas's face and he was basically saying what he said in this fic - I don't think I wrote it verbatim, but whatever. It was really funny and I was like, I have to put it in this fic for laughs. Also, whenever you see a * in this fic next to a line, it means it's a quote that I didn't come up with and was found on the internet. If it wasn't found online, credit will be given to the original source. )**


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